So This One Time
by VivianValentine
Summary: ...Author's tentacle monster raped the Confederate States of America. Sam is an OC of the Confederacy and this is mostly just him but there's a little bit of an Alfred cameo in the end there. But technically it's all America! So yeah enjoy! Lol genre?


Sam blinked into the bright blue light of a full moon, and immediately heard a loud crack.

Well, kind of a crack. It was wet-sounding…and Sam grabbed for the pistol under his pillow, sitting bolt up and aiming blindly into the blue, shadowy bedroom. Squinting, he searched for any signs of an intruder, reaching for his glasses on the end table when he felt it.

Something slithered over the bedsheets and Sam flinched, shivering in temporary numbness. "Damn these snakes," he growled, sliding a covered foot under the blurred object to kick it off the bed. He donned his glasses and cocked his pistol, leaning over the edge of the bed to take aim. When he saw the floor was clean and clear, his eyebrows furrowed and he chewed nervously on his bottom lip. "Could have imagined it—AAH!"

He whipped around, aiming down past his feet when something cold brushed his ankle. Momentarily losing control, reactions triggered by fear, he took a shot as his vision fuzzed out, and it was by luck that he missed his own foot. He could barely hear the gun go off due to the blood rushing and pulsing in his ears, but he had shot the varmint, which was now writhing uncontrollably as it receded off his bed.

"Eugh…" A shudder of goosebumps chilled over Sam's clammy skin, and he drew a shaky breath, telling his muscles to relax.

He had a quick mental debate over whether he should dispose of the carcass now or tomorrow. Deciding he would rather not step on a dead snake first thing in the morning, he sighed and set his weapon down on the mattress and peeked over the edge.

"What the hell?" he muttered, truly confused. There was, once again, no snake.

Sam began to breathe a little heavier, trying to keep calm, and got up on his knees, leaning over the edge of the bed and bracing himself with his hands. Utterly baffled, throat tightening in irrational fear. His only thought was "Is it still alive?" when he found himself on his back, on the bed, groaning at the strain under his kneecaps as his shins were still flat against the mattress. Eyes wide, and glasses askew, Sam frantically untucked his legs, digging his elbows into the mattress to try to sit up. He found this difficult and his panic increased. That's when he felt something cold and heavy pulse around his torso.

"Ah!" He planted one hand behind him and thrust himself upward, once, quickly enough to re-arm himself before he sprang backward against the mattress. "What-?"

What was around him? It couldn't seriously be a snake! If it was, Sam thought, surely he would black out. "Who are you? Get off!"

He pushed his glasses back up on his nose and pushed at the dark shape with the base of his palms, instantly withdrawing with a yelp. The thing had the strangest texture—and, he realized as something soaked through his nightshirt, it was wet.

Kicking wildly, he jammed the barrel of the gun into the dark creature. It was about twice as thick as his arm, and didn't retreat but continued to apply pressure to his ribs. He tried to scramble back and out of its grip, encouraged as he seemed to be sliding out successfully. But then the thing moved, wrapping another ring if itself around his chest and weighting him more.

"Oh god! Get off!" he shrieked, as another tendril, about half as thick, began to worm its way around his ankle. "No!" He threw his arm forward and took aim but before he could take a shot, something soft and slimy caught his wrist and squeezed, the shock and constriction causing him to lose grip of his gun.

Enraged, Sam kicked his bare foot against the thing slinking up his other leg, reaching over with his unrestrained arm for his pistol. Fueled by frustration, Sam kicked his free leg against the mattress, fighting the monster's grip just long enough for his fingertips to brush the barrel of his gun before it was swept out of his reach by another dark, slithering tendril.

"Aurgh!" Sam roared, tugging at the restraints.

Another coil wrapped itself around Sam's waist, and then he felt the thin tip of the tendril slide under his shirt.

"Oh god!" he shouted. It was cold…and so _weird_! Sam tried to push it away but another grabbed his wrist, pinning it against the bed and every one of them flexed and tightened around Sam, constricting his struggle.

He grunted, pulling at the foul things, and simultaneously two more feelers slunk around his body; one up his shirt to meet the other and another around his neck. Sam gasped, squirming.

The _texture_ of the things. It was disturbing. It wasn't quite firm, though there was obviously a good amount of muscle under the surface; it felt soft and almost fuzzy, like a downy feather, like Sam was feeling the flexing tendrils through numb skin. It was such a curious sensation, it almost wasn't unpleasant. Almost. And then they took it a step too far, the two up his shirt sliding to his chest and "licking" around his nipples.

Sam gasped again and thrashed as his face grew hot, and the appendage around his neck squeezed some and the two on his chest continued ceaselessly flicking at his nipples and _oh god_ the one around his leg just got _way_ too friendly and it was really awkward because Sam…liked it.

It was smooth—no, not quite smooth, but soft—and cool as more of it snaked its way over Sam's inner thigh beneath his boxers. His breathing hitched in his throat as the cool, wet thing coiled itself around the Southerner's slowly hardening cock. "A-ah…no…"

He shuddered as a very thin tendril wrapped itself around one if his testicles, and then swiftly between them, making him gasp. And when he did, his neck filled the tight coil around it and he had a brief flicker of claustrophobia before the coil doing figure-eights around his balls gave a little squeeze and—

"Gh-ghoddd!" Sam wheezed, breath growing shallower as his throat was squeezed again. The coils around his torso glinted wetly in the blue light, and finally Sam put together what they were. _Oh god,_ he thought, _Why would…tentacles…_ Even his thoughts were choking as the tentacle around his dick flexed, the tentacle's tip circling around the head of Sam's penis and Sam convulsed in pleasure, grunting and gaping. He struggled not against, but this time into the tentacles' grasp, bucking his hips and moaning in pleasure as the slippery tendrils slid up and down his cock, squeezing and pulling lightly. The two 'round his wrists wound down his arms, pulsing and constricting, joining the two under his shirt. "Aah…hah…" Sam whined, rocking gently to allow the tentacles to wrap around his torso.

He allowed his hunger for pleasure to take control, biting his lip and bucking into the tentacle around his cock. Sporadic shocks of pleasure wracked his body, making him gasp, moan, whine and finally, his voice cracked mid-moan as he felt something slither up the back of his thigh and stroke his ass.

That one was fairly thick, considering what it was implying by barging its way between Sam's firm cheeks.

"WHOA! Nuh-uh!" Sam protested, bucking his hips away and groaning as his cock throbbed in the grip of the tentacle around it. Again, the new tentacle prodded for entrance, but Sam would _not_ have it.

A couple of tentacles around Sam's stomach receded, leaving the two rubbing his nipples. Sam sighed, relaxing as his neck was also released—and tensing right back up when something prodded the soft spot behind his right ear.

"Wh—ah…what—" It was cold and hard and caused Sam to shiver deliciously, and now it slid down his jaw. He heard a click—"Wh—fuck! No!" His pistol glinted in the moonlight. "Don't—nnff!"

One of those cheeky fuckers crammed itself into Sam's mouth, pushing around and circling around his tongue. It did feel soft and fluid like a tongue, but much wetter and it tasted vaguely metallic. At the same time, he felt his shirt being swiftly removed and the barrel of his gun was dragged lazily across his abs, back and forth, and then down his stomach, and then it traced one of his hipbones. The fact that the gun was cocked made Sam freeze with fear—but a sharp snap to his backside by one of the tentacles had him wriggling again. He struggled against the tentacles at his wrists again but the creature(s?) persisted, removing Sam's boxers with a loud rip and pressing the pistol to his inner thigh.

"Mm-mn!" he protested around the slimy, soft, teasing flesh, biting down on it. It shrank fluidly away, like a tongue and he bit down on it again and it wriggled in his mouth like a freshly caught fish before retreating. Nearly all the tentacles followed suit, including—to Sam's great frustration—the one wrapped around his cock.

His pistol no longer presented a threat but he continued to struggle against the four tentacles left, each holding a wrist or an ankle. "Let me go, dammit! I know y'all can understand me!" Well I mean, they _had_ to be sentient. They could feel him. And they were doing everything they could to get on his last nerve. Sam bit his lip and shivered, growing increasingly embarrassed by the exposure of his fully hard cock due to the ministrations of a fucking mutant squid—and the truth that he wanted it to keep pleasuring him.

"Owh," he whined in defeat, tugging loosely at the tentacles. They had to pick now to listen? Impulsively, he bucked his hips into the air, annoyed at the lack of friction.

Then he heard another cracking sound, like when he woke up. And then a smaller one, and then a series of smaller ones in quick succession, like bubble wrap. The cracks and pops surrounded him, and then they slowed, like the end of popcorn's cooking time. Crack, snap, crack…

_Smmmack._ Sam went rigid, shivers crawling down his body from the sudden latch and release of a small, cold suction cup behind his ear. _Oh god what._ Tentacles began returning, first slinking up his shirt and one slinking across his collarbone and then _oh fuck yes_ around his cock and his testicles once more. He bit his lip, settling into the cold sensation of the tentacles on his skin.

Something was different, though. The ropes were firmer; they had lost that soft edge and now simply felt like slimy skin over muscle. Still, it wasn't unpleasant and _HOLY FUCKING-_

Sam's breath shuddered as another suction cup cracked, this time having latched to the head of his cock. His eyes went wide and his mouth opened up and the firm little rings seemed to be everywhere, kissing very briefly but sucking so hard before they released. He felt them down his torso and behind his ears and he tried to keep his breathing more than shallow and just the pure _pleasure_ coiling up in his groin as the lower tentacles pleasured him like _no other_, squeezing and pulling and rubbing and the fucking suction cups oh fuck what was going on.

Sam panted and huffed, head buzzing due to hyperventilation as he kept bucking into the tentacles, now welcoming each squeeze around his wrist and his torso, moaning as a few small suction cups peppered their kisses on and around his nipples. The tendril across his clavicle throbbed rhythmically, "kissing" all along it in short, shiver-inducing pulses.

Oh amazing, amazing thrills coursed through Sam's body as a few of the soft tentacles returned, coiling around his arms and flexing, massaging his shoulders…another one switched between his inner thighs, teasing him with almost enough pleasure to make Sam come before it switched to the other and instead of groaning in frustration he found himself almost giggling, completely high off the pleasure.

"Aah-hah…" He shuddered, feeling his cock dripping in the grip of the suction-cupped tentacle. "F-fuck…nngh…_yes…_" he whispered. Oh it was so damn good! Way too good, pleasure was thriving in all parts of him! He didn't even mind this time when one of the soft tentacles filled his mouth again. He even kissed back.

_I'm making out with a goddamn tentacle…_ he realized, swiftly overcome with far too much sensation to care for more than a second.

And then he did care because another soft tentacle was trying to wiggle between his cheeks. "Mmf!" he protested, trying to squirm his way out of it, but another tentacle slid over his hips and held him down against the bed, allowing just enough room for the intrusive soft tentacle to push its way into Sam's ass.

It was such a disturbing sensation. It just slid right in, like it wasn't trying, and Sam felt it expand inside of him. It was soft and slimy and gross and Sam clenched around it in auto-defense, a halted grunt escaping him when he felt the muscle under the tentacle's soft skin. It flexed and pulsed, causing Sam to wince. So gross—and then his attention was diverted due to excessive squeezing and kissing around his cock. "Mmm!"

And once again he was forced to focus on the tentacle in his ass, as he found himself being stretched out by its fluctuating girth. He grit his teeth against the sensation and just the…weirdness. The tentacle in his mouth followed the pattern of shrinking and expanding and before Sam had time to protest his nipples were teased again by the suction cups and it was just this weirdness and pleasure all mixed into one and then the tentacle inside of him expanded a bit too much. "MMMFH!" He clasped his legs together, eyes watering, and then the tentacles around his ankles wound up to his thighs, pulling them briskly apart. "Nnh! Nn! N-mmnhhh…" The tip of the tentacle around his testicles slithered down and rubbed the edge of the tight ring of muscle protesting intrusion, and Sam understood the cue to relax. And he was frustrated about how much he had to concentrate on relaxing, he just wanted to concentrate on how good the tentacles felt everywhere else, and he huffed through his nose because he felt his cock going soft and he just wanted to _come._

And he was instantly hard again, a surprised groan wrenching free of his throat, because suddenly, _finally,_ the tentacle pressed its tip against his prostate. He wasn't sure if the other tentacles had stopped or slowed, but now they were all moving again, or faster, each at their own rhythms, a mismatched orchestra of pleasure.

"Nnngh!" The tentacle inside him brushed that spot again, and then it withdrew, pulling out of him. Sam was instantly sad for the absence but then it entered him again, swiftly hitting that same spot. It picked up a hard rhythm, thrusting ruthlessly into his pleasure spot and each time, Sam's hips jerked up into the tight ring of tentacle around his dick. "Mmh! Mm…mmm…"

He squirmed, bucking, glasses falling from his face and he closed his eyes and relaxed every muscle in his body as his lower regions burned and tingled wondrously, the feeling building exponentially and he was just floating in a sea of mind-melting pleasure. The tentacle in his mouth slid dexterously around his tongue, throbbing against his cheeks and the roof of his mouth. The blunt tip of it stroked a sensitive part of his gums, in the back by his molars, and the tingling of it made Sam whimper and begin to quiver. Again the place behind his ear was assaulted by the suckling suction cups and Sam shuddered, chewing on the tentacle in his mouth.

His prostate was struck hard and Sam let out a muffled yelp, legs shaking as he rocked with the tentacles, getting closer and closer and drawing erratic breaths through his nose. He tipped his head back, _this is it, this is it,_ and then his mouth was left unoccupied and at that moment every pleasurable sensation shot right to his groin and he came with a shout, gaping as the orgasm exploded through his body, bubbling up through his belly in a sensation of white-hot carbonation and diffusing through his whole body. "AAH! Oh…ohhh," he moaned, gaping, very thoroughly enjoying the way the tentacles squeezed and throbbed around every over-sensitive part of him.

Sam couldn't open his eyes back up, and he could not move because he was just too physically exhausted. The tentacles slinked away and left Sam wet and slimy and messy, but Sam couldn't care because he was already half asleep, his body blanketed in the cozy warmth of post-coital bliss.

Sam didn't know and didn't want to know. When he woke up cold and sticky and naked and sprawled out over his mattress, it didn't take even a moment to remember the embarrassingly arousing events of last night. And he didn't even want to be _curious_ about where the beast had gotten to, or where it had even come from.

He just wanted to forget about it because the more he thought about it the more he felt those tantalizing tentacles, touching and teasing him, and the more he dwelled on it the harder he bit his tongue because he was getting aroused again.

Embarrassing.

What's more, as he donned his smudged glasses, Sam discovered rows of round red marks tracking across his torso. They were way too perfectly round to be hickeys, but they were red and purple and sore like hickeys. He shuddered to remember the way they felt…

Sam jumped at a knock on his door, covering up his half-erection and blushing. "What!"

"Saaaam come watch Pirates with me!" Alfred's voice whined through the door.

Well great, now Alfred's voice was doing things to him, too. "Dammit Al, I just woke up! I ain't even showered yet!"

"Okay well hurry up."

"It's…" Sam checked the clock, and did a double take. Was it seriously 11AM already? "Alfred, ain't it a bit early to be watching movies?"

"It's Saaaaaturdaaaay! Movie day! I already watched the first one, come on you sloth."

Sam glared at the door. "I just got up!"

"I'll make breakfast for you, whatever!" Alfred huffed. "Just hurry up and shower already. I don't like watching the second one by myself. Davy Jones's tentacles give me the creeps."

Sam flushed. Well, this was going to be an interesting movie day.


End file.
